Museo e Arquivo Histórico Diocesano

I’ve seen a lot of churches on this trip, but the Tui Cathedral made me want to convert.

Not really, but I can see how the Catholic Church held sway over this continent for so long. The cathedral, consecrated 1225 AD, is massive. Every wonderful, Romanesque and Gothic architectural detail is here. It’s also a castle, surrounded by what was once a walled town. There’s a walled city, Valenca, in Portugal across the river. Apparently folks here didn’t get along for a while.

I remember studying Romanesque/gothic architecture back in college humanities. It’s impressive to se how these massive columns and arched ceilings somehow come hold up a building that is the equivalent of at least two stories. The cathedral is also decked out senior girl on prom night. Every doorway, every corner, every everything is carved, guilded, painted, and otherwise bedazzled. It’s overwhelming, ostentatious, and gorgeous.

Honestly, it’s like the archbishops said, “Let’s just go for it. Go big or go home.” And they kept saying that with each new iteration of the place.

There are some hidden gems here if you look beyond the awe inspiring big baubles. I found a calendar of feast days, in Latin. If you look up, there is a massive pipe organ on both sides of the center aisle. The original interior gate has a half dozen locks that represent history. Several different periods are represented in the artworks, which makes for thoughtful viewing. I even found a passageway up to the battlements, which have no exterior wall. It’s just a stone walkway alongside the Lowe tile roofs. Kinda scary.

Still, I said to no one in particular, “Go away, or I will taunt you a second time.” The

Mary is everywhere here, of course. They even have a statue of her hung floating in the air, waaaaay up over the aisle. At one side alter, she glows with her seven swords and her tears of woe. A dead or dying Jesus lies in what looks like his tomb below her. Off to the side is happy, young Mary with her cherubic savior in her arms. It’s creepily effective and, in a way, a perfect representation of motherhood, especially when grief is part of the story. She’s all dewy and happy in the beginning, but tired as hell and broke down at the end.

While I was there, I suddenly heard singing. I followed the song to a tiny alcove at one side of the church where a couple dozen people were celebrating Mass. They still hold services here, but they are minuscule compared to the building.

I have an “oh, how the mighty have fallen” moment. This cathedral when filled must be remarkable. A choir with that organ? You’d get chills. Today, it’s a little crowd of people in a side room. Still, it was nice to hear their voices floating through that ancient, Goliath space.

When I arrived here a couple of hours ago, two pilgrims got their cards stamped and just left. Shame. They missed a spectacular chance to experience history at its gilded finest.Read more